"Think well and deeply, boy, before deciding upon thy course," he advised Sir Richard when he arose to take leave of him. "'Tis no small thing to hurl a great power at a sleeping, peaceful nation; thereby to embroil it in bloody strife and dissensions ... eh. But, once thy path be laid, follow it without halt or deviation to the end. Thus let me say," he added, taking the young knight's hand, "'twill be a right brave day for England when thy consent be won to sit upon her throne."

"But, whatever I do, de Claverlok, and whereever I go," Sir Richard said, "your own good self shall sure be with me."

"Within this very hovel, Sir Richard, we will await thy further command," he replied.

"Sir Richard!" Isabel called to the young knight as he was about to step to the door. "Take this bit packet," she said, handing him the smallest of parcels. "Guard it next thy heart till thou hast reached into the Forest of Lammermuir​—​then, thou mayst open it. But remember, boy, not before! And now," she added, standing a-tiptoe, "I'll kiss thee a good-bye ... one for myself​—​one for Lionel. Thou art a brave, good youth, Sir Richard."

There were tears in the young knight's eyes when he stepped outside the hut ready to start with Tyrrell, who was on horse and waiting, upon their journey.

Sir Richard was surprised to discover that Harold's jennet was trapped and standing beside his saddled stallion. When he inquired what it meant, the foot-boy went on his knees before him and besought the young knight to permit him to become his lowly squire. When Sir Richard inquired of him what Thomas intended doing, the foot-boy informed him that his mate had sought a like service with de Claverlok.

"Then get off your knees," Sir Richard told him, "and come along; or, by the mass! I'll have the broad of my sword this moment at your hinder quarters."

Whereupon they mounted and started for the road. Sir Richard looked several times over his shoulder-piece; and always his backward glance would be met by a waving of Isabel's lace scarf in the doorway, and two profound bows from in front of the smaller hut. 'Twas a sight well worth seeing​—​that awkward curtsy of the fat doctor from Bannockburn.

They were perforce obliged to travel slowly, as Tyrrell's infirmities seemed fast growing upon him. From the drawn and haggard look of his thin countenance it could plainly be seen that he was in constant and extreme pain. Moreover, Sir Richard noted that by now he had ceased attributing his sufferings to the tortures to which he had been put in Castle Yewe. Times he would be seized with a fit of coughing of so violent a nature that Sir Richard bethought him it might well have shattered his very insides.

Then, for the space of two days, a most unpleasant transition of weathers set in upon them, marked by incessant and dense fogs, heavy rains and sharp, driving flurries of snow. So alarmingly was Tyrrell's sickness increasing that upon the morning of the fourth day, it appeared impossible that he would have sufficient strength longer to sit horse. Sir Richard begged him to stay within the herdsman's cottage, where they had stopped for the night, till he had ridden ahead to summon help. But Tyrrell stubbornly refused to listen to the young knight's entreaties.